


nothing good comes after midnight

by curds_and_wheyface, thoresque



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Anal Sex, Berserker!Thor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Sort Of, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Violence, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 06:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12382536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curds_and_wheyface/pseuds/curds_and_wheyface, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoresque/pseuds/thoresque
Summary: Loki has been and always will be his; from the day Loki’s junkie mother showed up with him Thor had known that, embraced it as his most significant truth. Loki was his to love and protect and then, later, somewhere down the line, his to fuck.





	nothing good comes after midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Buckets of love and kisses to [ravenbringslight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenbringslight/profile) and [umakoo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/umakoo/pseuds/umakoo) for beta'ing and cheerleading! Thank you, darlings!

The new guy shouldn’t be a thorn in Thor’s side.

He didn’t bring Jakey Boy into the club; it was a rare ‘friend of a friend’ thing that he went along with because Fandral vouched for him.

He seemed to be good, though. Had that ‘ride or die for the club’ mentality that Odin - and now, Thor - had demanded from the pack.

Jakey Boy wasn’t afraid to get into the shit. He liked roughing up the shop guys who were late on their payments or whose reach extended their grasp.

It occurs to Thor that Jakey might like it a little too much, but he always gets results, so he lets it ride.

Thor doesn’t like him, but he doesn’t necessarily have to. Sometimes the boys get up to shit he doesn't like, but he _trusts_ them. 

And he doesn't _trust_ Jakey Boy. Not by the fucking longest of shots.

He doesn’t trust the way the punk questions his orders. The way he back talks and acts like he can run shit.

Most of all though, Thor doesn’t trust the way he looks at his little brother.

~

It’s a slow night - there’s no club business, and the boys are good and loose. Fandral’s girl, Trixie, keeps leaning over to Thor, thrusting her fake, heavy cleavage in his face. He manages to lean _just_ out of the way every time, politely of course.

She probably thinks it's because she's Fandral’s girl, but it’s much simpler than that. Thor’s got no interest in blondes. Or girls. Or anyone that isn’t his baby brother.

Doesn't stop her trying though, over and over. Thor can hardly blame her; he remembers watching girl after girl throw themselves at Odin, all too smart to pass up a chance at warming the pack leader’s bed.

He'd entertain it further, maybe, for appearance’s sake, if it wasn't for the narrowed set of moss-green eyes boring a hole into the side of his head.

He knows it makes Loki itch with envy, that she can do what he can't. Sidle over to Thor, put her hand on his knee, whisper too close to his ear, like she's doing now.

Half the pack jump as an abandoned stein hits the floor with a smash. Loki, the source of the noise, looks neither surprised nor apologetic. Trixie spares him a glance, and Thor swallows hard at the answering grin that twists his little brother’s mouth.

_"I’d like to crush the ember of this cigarette right into her pretty pink cheek.”_

Two nights ago, a very real threat, spoken with a soft, violent glee into the quiet of their room, Loki’s chin propped up on his chest as they shared a post-fuck smoke.

 _"So poetic,"_ Thor had murmured, tugging at the tip of his ear, trying not to show how worried he was that Loki would make good on the threat.

  _~_

Thor doesn't often hold court - unlike his father he doesn't love to hear himself speak - but he's in his element now, with all the boys in one place and in the right mood.

Volstagg bellows and slams a stein repeatedly against the bar once he realizes Thor is going to talk; his huge barrel chest means he has a knack for getting the attention of the clientele.

Thor nods his thanks.

“I just wanted to say,” he starts, letting his eyes travel the room. All eyes are on him, even the girls and the hangers-on, the not-quite-pack members of the crowd, and they're all respectfully paying him attention.

Almost all eyes, at least.

A muscle in his throat tics as he watches Jakey murmur in the ear of a curvy brunette. She's got her head tilted towards him but even she has the good sense to watch Thor.

“What did you want to say?” Loki pipes up, the little brat.

Thor turns narrowed eyes on him. He’s perched on the bar, pressed back casually against the rusted beer pumps, a lit cigarette bobbing between his lips as he grins in the face of Thor’s stern look.

Thor leans over and takes the cigarette from his mouth, burnt down to almost a bud now, finger and thumb brushing his brother’s lips.

“Just that it's good to have everyone here in high spirits, drinking spirits,” he jokes, lifting his glass to a rowdy cheer. “So drink well, sleep well, and we’ll save the business for the morning.”

The rowdiness continues, whoops and claps, Fandral dipping Trixie low to plant a showy kiss on her mouth.

Grinning, Thor lifts the cigarette to his own mouth, the paper a little damp where Loki’s lips had been. It's the closest he can get to a kiss in front of the others.

The tingling heat of smoke fills his lungs as he takes a deep drag. Impatient, Loki reaches for his cigarette again even before Thor exhales, white plumes of vapor billowing from his nostrils, dragon-like.

“You need to learn to share,” Thor hums, quiet.

Loki glances over at Trixie, her eyes predictably back on Thor. “Yeah, right.” 

~

“Hey, Odinson!”

Thor turns at the sound of his name, and Jakey Boy is swaggering up to him, beer sloshing in one hand, cigarette smoldering in the other.

Thor turns back to the bar. “What do you want, Jakey?”

“I wanna talk about my cut,” he says, words slurring.

“You got your cut. Nothing to talk about.”

Jakey Boy slides over to Thor’s open side and rests against the bar. “Fifteen fucking percent?”

Thor takes the last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in a dirty ashtray. “Yeah - be glad you got that much. I said you only deserved ten, but Fandral was looking out for you.”

“I don’t need nobody to fucking look out for me - it was _my_ goddamned tip.”

Thor rolls his shoulders. “Yeah, but you didn’t pull the job by yourself.” He watches Jakey Boy’s expression darken, but he keeps talking. “Took two of my best guys in there with you, and it still went _fucking sideways._ ”

Jakey’s brow twitches. He doesn't have much of a poker face. “I told you - those guards were a surprise. I watched that place for two weeks and they was never there before.”

“Then you should've watched it for three.” Thor takes a swig of his beer. “You'd be sitting in fucking County right now if Heimdall hadn't been there to save your sorry ass. That's why you only got fifteen.” He leans into Jakey, keeping his voice low. “And don't you ever fucking question me again - you get me?”

“Yeah, I _get_ you, Odinson.” Jakey throws a glance, just beyond Thor's shoulder, at Loki. “Better than you think.”

Thor visibly bristles. His instincts nudge at him to lay a possessive hand on the back of his baby brother's neck, but he can't. Not here. “Be careful, Jakey...you don’t want me to lay you out in front of everybody.”

Jakey chuckles, low and deep and humorless, just before he chucks his stein into the wall behind the bar. The club goes quiet. “Come on, then,” he says, wiping at his nose. “Do it, Odinson.”

Thor drains the rest of his beer. “You’re wasted, Jakey. Get outta here while you can...sleep it off.”

“While I can?” Jakey Boy laughs again. “Or what? You gonna get your old boys to jump me?”

“I take care of my own shit,” Thor tells him, sliding off his stool. “And these ‘old boys’? They’ve been out here living and dying for this club before you could hold your own dick straight to piss.”

There’s a few snickers from the boys, but it’s not enough to stop Jakey.

“That’s the problem,” he spits. “You’ve been around too long - too chicken shit to go after the real money out there.”

Thor pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’re not hitting a fucking church, Jakey. I said no, and that’s the fucking end of it.”

A low grumble from some of the pack. There were guys that definitely wanted to hit the megachurch in the city. It was running some missionary fundraiser; there was potential to make a _lot_ of money, and also pick up a _lot_ of bad fucking karma. Thor had nixed the idea when it came to the table, but now he wonders if Jakey’s been filling some heads with talk behind his back.

“Then maybe somebody else needs to be at the head of the table.”

The bar’s gone quiet now, save for a few murmurs that Thor doesn’t bother to make out. Instead, he gestures to the wasted beer sliding down the old wood paneling. “You gonna take care of that, or is somebody else gonna have to clean up your mess? Again?”

Behind the bar, Volstagg has one big hand shoved in another stein as he wipes it dry. He spares an amused glance at Jakey Boy and goes back to his work, unfazed. Volstagg rode with Thor’s father in the early years of the club; he’s been around as long as Thor can remember. He’s a legend, a figure.

Jakey Boy spits in his general direction. “Fuck you, old man,” he grits out. “Outside,” he says to Thor, jabbing him in the chest with one finger. “Now.”

Thor rolls his eyes. He’s not in the mood for a fight - he’d much rather be fucking his baby brother into the mattress - but he can’t deny that it’ll feel good to pummel some sense into Jakey Boy.  

He turns to Loki and pats his shoulder. “Be right back.”

Loki smirks in reply. “Oh no...no way am I gonna miss this,” he says, hopping off of his own stool. His eyes are shining, and his pink tongue darts between even pinker lips. “It was dead around here tonight anyway.”

Thor grins back at his brother. “You’re such a little asshole,” he teases as Loki walks past him. He resists the impulse to smack his ass as he goes by.

Loki glances back over his shoulder. _You love it_ , he mouths.

He isn’t wrong.

~

Almost everyone except Volstagg and a couple of the older guys spill out of the place on Thor’s heels, hungry for the fight. None of them would admit to enjoying the dirtier side of their work but when it's slow they get this way; blood-thirsty, buzzing for action.

Jakey Boy’s not the stockiest amongst them but Thor has never been one to underestimate his opponents - he knows Jakey has speed and a powerful right hook. He doesn't intend to let him land a single hit.

Mostly Thor messes with him - it's more of a wrestle than anything - tugging him close into a headlock and laying light punches on him, just to show him who’s boss.

He grunts when Jakey jabs him in his side, shoving him away and laughing. He's feeling jovial about it, his mood still good, but Jakey’s practically frothing at the mouth.

Next time he gets close Thor slaps him. A laugh rumbles through the crowd.

“You have to learn, Jakey Boy,” Thor chuckles. “Respect is earned around here.”

“Earned?” Jakey laughs, high-pitched and a little manic. “Don’t kid yourself, Odinson. You didn't earn shit. Everything you got? You got from your _daddy_.”

It takes effort not to let his smile falter. “Careful,” he warns.

“You walk around like you’re un-fucking-touchable, taking your cut of everything, making your big speeches. You don't think any one of us could take your spot?”

He gestures around like he thinks he has the backing of their audience, seemingly unaware of how they've all sobered. He's strutting, posturing, opening out his arms as he continues.

“All of this could be mine,” he sneers, stepping closer still. “All of it!” He has to tilt his chin up to meet Thor’s gaze but he's got a crazed look in his eyes, unpredictable.

Thor doesn't like unpredictable. It's not good for business.

“I think you need to sleep this off,” Thor tells him, no hint of humor now. He's as fair a leader as it's possible to be without being soft; he takes care of his boys with a single-mindedness that outdoes even Odin. Nobody has ever seriously challenged him for his position and he's an inch from laying Jakey out just to make a point.

“Don't worry, I won't run you out,” Jakey snickers, oblivious or uncaring that Thor is reaching the end of his tether. “I'll let you stick around to watch me enjoy everything that used to be yours.”

His eyes shift to just behind Thor then, something catching his focus and morphing his sneer into a smile. Belatedly, Thor remembers Loki slinking out to stand not far behind him.

Jakey wets his bottom lip, and he has the good sense to lower his voice when he says, "Wonder how it'll feel to fuck your little peach of a brother?”

The world falls silent, like a vacuum, the words echoing in Thor’s skull.

He tilts his head, hot anger snaking its way up his spine, and he can barely even hear his own voice as he asks, “What did you say?”

Cool, delicate fingers wind around his wrist. Loki. Thor can't look at him.

But Jakey can, and does. His eyes shift again, looking Loki up and down.

“Whaddya think, baby?” he murmurs, all soft like he thinks he could actually coax Loki away. “Think you could take a _real_ cock?"

Loki’s grip tightens on Thor’s wrist but it's not enough, nowhere near. There's no force on earth that could stop Thor from laying Jakey out now.

He hears himself roar, feels the crunch of Jakey’s jaw beneath his fist. Vaguely, amidst the ringing in his own ears, he hears the thud of Jakey hitting the ground, and he follows the bastard down in a blur of red.

~

He comes to in their bed. Everything is eerily quiet. An uneasy sensation, something cold and wet against his knuckles. It stings, and Thor jerks from it, hissing.

“Shit - hold still, will you?”

Loki.

Thor squints hard before finally opening his eyes. His vision slowly bleeds into focus; Loki is perched beside him on the bed, dabbing at his hands with a wet rag. It still burns, whatever it is, but Thor doesn't shrink from it anymore.

“What happened?”

Loki doesn't answer, just sighs and takes the cloth away, reaching for a roll of gauze. “What do you remember?”

Thor forces himself to sit up and watches Loki wrap white around his knuckles. His shirt is gone; there are flecks of reddish-brown dotting his arms. Dried blood. He presses his uninjured hand to the dull ache in his side and winces. All at once, he recalls taking a punch there. And who delivered it.

_Fucking -_

“Jakey. He got mouthy.”

Loki nods. “Anything else?”

“He wanted to take over. Wanted a fight.” Thor grits his teeth and moves to get off the bed, but Loki presses his free hand to Thor's chest, stilling him.

His brother shakes his head. “No. You stay.”

Thor chuckles. “You giving me orders, little brother?”

“I am,” Loki answers. The curve of his smile dips a little. “You really don't remember, do you?”

A knot of confusion forms between Thor's brows.“Why? What else happened?”

He squints at his brother in the low light and sees, for the first time, spots of dark red spattered across Loki's cheek. A cold, sick feeling crawls all over Thor's skin, and he reaches out to clasp his hand to the back of his brother's neck.

“Did he hurt you, baby?” Thor growls, searching Loki's face. “I'll fucking _kill_ that son of a bitch -”

“You already did,” Loki says quietly, cutting him off. He goes back to tending Thor's injured hand. “Jakey's dead.”

Thor blinks, confused. “I…what? What are you talking about?”

Loki looks up from his task. “He's dead,” he says again. “You killed him, Thor. Beat the living shit out of him.”

Thor's hand falls from Loki's neck, and he runs it through his own hair. “Jesus fucking Christ… Shit, I - I've got to -”

“The guys are already taking care of it.”

The words wash over him as he struggles to remember. “But what _happened_? I mean, yeah, Jakey was a piece of shit, but I wouldn't’ve just hauled off and…”

Loki is smiling now, all pretty eyes and sharp cheekbones. His cool fingers slide against Thor's wrist, resting on the pulse point, and Thor remembers.

His brother's voice, the heat of him at his back…

_Wonder how it'll feel to fuck your little peach of a brother?_

Thor's blood rage hits him so quickly it makes his head ache. His hands ball into fists, heedless of the pain, and he watches dots of red seep into the gauze on his knuckles. “He,” he swallows around the hard lump in his throat. “He _knew_. About us…”

Loki tosses the roll on the little pine table beside the bed. “He asked me if I'd be able to take a real cock.” He runs his hand up the length of Thor's arm. “And you fucking _destroyed_ him.” Loki leans in close now, his mouth hovering just in front of Thor's. He sticks out his tongue and wets Thor's lips with the very tip. “For me.”

Thor only has to slide a loose arm around Loki’s waist and he's got a lap full of his baby brother, plush lips just a kiss away from his own, his breath a contradiction of sweetness and tobacco.

“Yeah…” he breathes out. Because Loki is right. He’d destroyed Jakey for one reason only, and it wasn't his inconsequential attempt to take over the club.

Loki has been and always will be his; from the day Loki’s junkie mother showed up with him Thor had known that, embraced it as his most significant truth. Loki was his to love and protect and then, later, somewhere down the line, his to fuck.

He can't pinpoint in his memory exactly when it changed - evolved, _mutated_ \- into what it is now, but he knows Loki was far too young for it. Far too innocent to really comprehend the consequences of his actions the first time he parted his pretty pink lips for his brother’s cock.

“I wanna thank you,” Loki murmurs, nose bumping Thor’s cheek, knees squeezing around his thighs.

It's never been about thank yous or favors for them, but just the promise of it is enough to get Thor going.

Still…a man is _dead._

“Baby, we ca-”

“God, shut _up_ ,” Loki tells him, hand slipping between their bodies to palm roughly at the growing bulge tenting Thor’s zipper.

Thor’s helpless to stop him, hips lifting into the touch on instinct. He loves having Loki here, in his lap, in the privacy of their room where they're free to touch. “Loki…”

“I know what you need,” Loki murmurs.

And he does. Years of this have rendered his little brother an expert. Loki's fingers work to open the button and zipper and make their way down into Thor's jeans. They feel like ice against the heat of Thor's skin. It's _exactly_ what he needs.

His fingertips graze over the head of Thor's cock, and Thor pulls Loki tight against him, grunting his desire into his brother's soft, pliant mouth. Loki's touch is good, but it's not enough to get him off and Thor's hips are already angling for more.

Loki laughs against his mouth, sharp and sweet. “Easy, baby,” he whispers. “I got this.”

And then, as easy as he slid up there, Loki is out of Thor's lap and moving down to perch on top of his thighs. He doesn't bother with getting his brother out of his jeans - just works Thor's thick cock out of the opening in his briefs and drags a lone finger up and down its length.

“Loki,” Thor says, trying to keep the raw need out of his voice as he watches his prick wave in the air like some obscene flag pole.

“What?” his brother sing-songs back. His thumb glides over the head, setting off a new pulse of precum.

Blinking down at him, at Loki’s gleaming eyes caught in the meager light, Thor lets out a shuddering sigh.

“Don't tease,” he says, and as much as he'd never sincerely threaten his brother there's a warning in his tone.

Long fingers wrap around his cock, not quite tight enough to satiate. “No?” Loki grins.

Thor's only answer is a grunt, low in his chest and impatient, as he slides his palm around the back of Loki’s head, still not quite used to the way Loki’s newly-short hair burrs against his palm.

A few months ago he'd come home from a job to find Fandral perched on the toilet seat, a pair of clippers in his hand and Loki seated between his legs. They'd been most of the way through buzzing Loki’s beautiful hair into an undercut and Thor had been livid.

Fandral had been appropriately apologetic about the whole thing but Loki, of course, had been _just thrilled_ to rile Thor up, spitting accusations that Thor wanted to keep him young and pretty because it suited his own desires. And even at the time, hot with anger, Thor had recognized that as the truth, at least in part.

But he'd observed, the following day, the way Loki had practically preened beneath the approving hums of the others, how he'd enjoyed their playful jostles, how much better he seemed to fit.

He still mourns it; the jet-black ponytail Loki would snatch his hair into in the mornings, the irritated little grunt he’d emit whenever Thor would pass behind him and tug at the ends…

…how Loki would straighten up, gasping, and run long fingers through his hair while he rode Thor’s cock at his own torturously slow pace.

Now Thor settles for winding his fingers in the long hair at the top of his head, using it to guide Loki’s mouth.

And Loki opens up for him, as he always does, tongue resting on his bottom teeth like he craves the taste.

The first push into that dark, wet heat is electric, sending Thor's entire body into a wracking shiver. He's already canting his hips up, groaning as his body pushes for more. He feels Loki laugh through his nose, his lips quivering somewhere around the middle of his length.

Loki pulls off and Thor can't help the whining groan that escapes his throat. His brother looks up at him, grinning as his tongue laps up a fresh dribble of slick. “Isn't this better, brother?”

Thor fists Loki's hair, black silk between his fingers, and pulls hard. “Shut up,” he answers in a hiss. “ _Suck it_.”

“Make me.”

Thor tugs again and he watches Loki's eyes flutter shut and his mouth fall open. A line of spit drools off of his brother's bottom lip and onto his cock, and Thor takes himself in hand, pushing the slicked crown against Loki's lips.

Loki whines this time, desperate and _hungry_. Wrenches his head away just enough to get Thor's dick in his mouth again.

His brother's all in this time, his stretched lips pushing all the way down Thor's cock until the sharp tip of his nose is buried in the kink of Thor's dark gold curls. Loki holds his mouth still for a blistering moment; Thor can only groan at the heady sensation of his brother's throat working, spasming around his prick. “Oh, fuck, Loki.”

Humming, Loki pulls off with a pop, lips shining with spit. He gazes up at Thor, working his slick cock with his hand with practiced precision. He knows exactly how Thor likes to be touched, has used it to his advantage many times, to get his own way when Thor was vulnerable beneath his attention. For now, though, his little brother is eager to please. To watch Thor’s face, to take in every hitch of breath as he fucks up into his fist.

“Come on,” Thor pants - _begs_ \- not that it does him any good. Loki’s still watching him, green eyes fixed, straight white teeth grazing the head of his cock.

It reminds Thor of the very first time they did this, back when his baby brother was too young and he himself was too horny (and too selfish) to stop it.

Loki had been clumsy and sweet that first night, using too much teeth and not enough tongue, but Thor got off all the same, his cock firing off a thick glob of cum that landed on his brother's rounded cheek.

The thought of it, even now, sets off something warm and coiling low in his belly. His dick twitches and a fresh pearl of slick beads at its tip. Loki licks it away quickly, humming happily as though he's tasting something sweet. He tightens his grip and strokes upward, coaxing more. Thor can make out the runes tattooed on each of Loki's knuckles. The ones that spell out ‘Thor’.

“Loki,” he murmurs. Sometimes he says it just to say it, his favorite word, but there's a purpose behind this utterance. He's already told his brother not to tease, not tonight.

Loki smiles, soft and pleased with himself, but he reaches out to the old bedside table and tugs open the top drawer. He's not looking, still mouthing self-indulgently at the leaking tip of Thor’s cock, but he feels around in the drawer deftly enough. There isn't much in there; gum, cigarettes, condoms they don't use anymore and the item he was aiming for - a half-empty bottle of lube.

Thor’s next breath shudders out of him, and he works quickly to shimmy out of his jeans as Loki stands to undress from the waist down, kicking off his shoes across the room with a _thud-thud_. He's milky-pale, porcelain skin decorated with a swath of tattoos from the side of his neck to his wrist, marred only by a thumb-shaped bruise on his inner right thigh that Thor has already apologized for with kisses. His cock bobs between his legs, catching the hem of his black tank top, but he's back on his knees before Thor can reach out to touch.

The lube opens with a familiar, muted click, and then Loki is parting his knees and slipping one hand behind his back.

A pretty little hitch of breath signals the first brush of his slick fingers around his opening, brows twitching as his eyes flutter closed, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He loves to have his hole played with, teased. All too often Thor has found him in their bed already three fingers deep and dazed, just waiting for Thor to finish up and join him.

It's easy, too, to pinpoint the exact moment he begins to open himself up. His face, usually stoic, opens up, his tight mouth going slack.

Thor can't look away.

He lifts a hand to Loki’s cheek, needing to touch, and in response Loki moans softly, turning his face to bite at the meat of Thor’s palm.

There’s still blood on Thor’s knuckles, stark and red in such close proximity to Loki’s cheek, but Loki pays it no mind as he snakes his tongue between Thor’s fingers. Thor’s cock twitches, missing the attention.

Loki’s eyes flutter open again as he draws the tips of Thor’s middle and ring fingers into his mouth.

It strikes Thor, a dark but not entirely unrealistic thought, that Loki might be chasing the taste of Jakey’s blood.

He remembers when Loki was little, when he would pull Thor's fingers into his mouth and suck them to soothe himself. When he'd wake up next to his sleeping brother and have to ease a pale, pruney thumb or index finger out of his mouth.

The memory dissolves when Loki's fingers, slick and warm from his own heat, close tightly around Thor's neglected prick. His playfulness giving way to something _darker_ , Loki wastes no time raising up on his knees, lining the wide head of Thor's cock against his hole. Loki's pretty face tightens, determined as he works his narrow body to let Thor in; instinctively, Thor's hands fly to his brother's hips, holding him steady.

Steady and slow isn't the way Loki wants to do this, though - he makes that clear when he forces himself down on Thor's length in one searing, teeth-gritting go.

The noise he makes, though brief, is strangled and high in pitch, like Thor’s cock fills every inch of him and leaves no room even for air.

“Loki,” Thor can't help but tighten his grip on his brother’s bony hips, knowing they’ll bruise. “Take it easy.”

But Loki pays him no mind, lifting himself with already-shaking thighs before dropping down again until Thor’s cock is seated deeply inside him.

Thor craves Loki - never more than when they can't touch, and Loki teases him for it with knowing eyes and subtle shifts of hip and flicks of tongue - but they rarely go long enough for Thor to lose control.

With Loki though, it's like sometimes he gets this desperation in him no matter how recently they've fucked, a _need_ that must be satisfied before he can relax. It leaves him scrambling for Thor, like he's doing now, nails in his shoulders and knees achingly tight around his hips.

Thor had worried for the longest time that this was all for him, this part, when he's buried to the hilt in Loki’s warmth like he's part of him, damn near euphoric. Loki had been so young when they had wandered onto this path, so soft and new, and even as Thor had taken full advantage of his eager mouth and inquisitive hands, he had wanted to preserve that, that newness and softness. But Loki hadn't grown much before he'd started demanding Thor fuck him for real.

Thor had only been able to resist for so long.

Loki had been so small, so breakable, with his perpetually grazed knees up by his ears and his mouth tight with discomfort, breath coming in shaky little pants as Thor had worked himself inside, fixated on the sight of Loki’s body stretching and _giving_ around him, too big, surely too big, and still Loki had murmured for _more, more please._

There’s no doubt now that this is equally for Loki’s pleasure, the way he writhes and whines beneath Thor’s weight or - like now - clings to Thor’s neck as he frantically impales himself over and over on his cock.

“Say it, Thor,” Loki whispers hotly against Thor's mouth. “Say you killed Jakey.”

Thor knows what Loki wants to hear. _Needs_ to hear. He wraps his arms tight around his brother's narrow waist and ducks his head just enough to run his teeth along Loki's sharp jaw. “I did,” he growls against Loki's throat. “I killed Jakey.” He drives his hips up hard, grunting at the way Loki's body tightens around him.

He eases back to ruck up Loki's tank top - he needs his little brother close, to feel the heat of his skin pressed against his. Loki whines at their separation, but raises his arms obediently and lets Thor snatch it off altogether.

Cool hands fly back to Thor's face as Loki kisses him hungrily, his mouth full and sweet, as Thor's meaty fingers skim the buzz of Loki's shorn hair. He clamps one hand on the back of Loki's neck and gives as good as he gets, devouring his brother's mouth with teeth and tongue. A line of spittle runs down Thor's chin - there's no way to know if it's Loki's or his own.

Loki’s hips stutter as he fucks himself on Thor's cock, pace reckless and punishing. He pulls Thor's injured hand back to his lips and kisses Thor's knuckles, mouthing at the fresh blood seeping through the bandages. When he finally lets go, Thor drags his wet fingers down Loki's bare chest, sliding over a peaked nipple with a smeary mix of blood and spit.

Loki whimpers and tips forward, touching his forehead to Thor's. “Tell me…you did it for me,” he gasps.

Thor's vision fuzzes dark at the edges, a hazy halo of focus surrounds Loki - his brother, his lover, his _everything._ “I did for you, baby.”

Loki hums. Drags his tongue across Thor's cheek. “Tell me - _ah_ \- you'll never let anybody else touch me.”

Thor braces himself higher against the wall, tightening his hold around Loki's little waist and driving up hard and fast, as if he could beat a tattoo - a brand - deep inside his brother. _Mine mine mine…_

“Never,” Thor pants as the familiar coil of tension builds at the base of his spine. He dips down and tugs Loki's wet nipple between his teeth. “Never,” he mouths around the tiny bud.

His desperate promise earns him a wail in reply, high and loud and _delicious._ Thor looks back up at his brother to find his eyes wet and dark - his green irises nearly drowned in black. He thrusts up into Loki again, angling his hips to drive his cock against that secret spot they discovered together all those years ago.

His aim is true, and Loki trembles against him, fingernails biting into Thor's tensed shoulders. “Tell me,” Loki gasps, breath hitching on a sob. “Tell me you'd do it again.“

Thor stares up at his baby brother - this sullen, wild, maddening force of nature bouncing on his cock like he was made for nothing else, _no one else_ \- and he knows, down to his core.

He’d killed for this. _He_ **_will kill_ ** _for this._

“I would, baby,” Thor hears himself say. He holds his brother still as he takes control, doing the fucking for both of them. “As many times as it takes - I'd do it again.” Loki wraps his arms around Thor's neck and whimpers against his temple, babbling nonsense as Thor promises, “I'll kill anybody who tries to take you away from me.”

Loki lets out a loud sob, crying out as splashes of hot, wet cum splatter between their stomachs. He's still shuddering when Thor comes with a roar, pumping his spend deep inside his brother.

Loki slumps against him, warm and pliant, gnawing at Thor's neck and shoulder while Thor runs his hands over Loki's back. He protests weakly when Thor moves to push him off of his lap. “No,” he murmurs. “Stay inside me…please.”

It's a rare thing, Loki being vulnerable like this, and Thor doesn't take it lightly. He slowly moves their bodies, shifting carefully until they're lying down on the bed, facing each other. Thor's cock is softening, though, and despite all his careful maneuvering, he still slips out of his baby brother.

Right on cue, Loki moans at the loss. Thor touches the tips of two bandaged fingers to his brother's mouth, and he obediently parts his lips, sucking them into his mouth. Loki looks at him - glassy, green eyes study his face while his cheeks hollow around his mouthful. Still, he's not content; Loki's hips continue to roll, anxious for _something_.

On a whim, Thor pushes his other hand down between their sweaty bodies. Wriggles his fingers until they're brushing against the wet cleft of Loki's ass, and then pushes three of them inside his slack hole.

“You see, Loki?” Thor says quietly. “Nothing can get between us. I won't let it happen. Ever.”

Thor watches as his little brother's pretty eyes finally ease shut. Beats later, the gentle sucking of his fingers gives way to the familiar sounds of Loki's sleep-breathing.

For a while, Thor simply watches his brother, his mind touching on the memory of every moment that has led them _here_.

He ended another man's life tonight. For this. And he'd do it again. He _vowed_ he would. It was a promise delivered in the heat of the moment, but even now, in the waning minutes afterward, Thor knows with a cold certainty that he meant every word.

The moment of quiet contemplation is disrupted by a rumbling of movement downstairs. The clomp of heavy boots mixed with deep, familiar voices. The boys are back.

Thor slowly eases his fingers out of Loki's mouth and ass; his baby brother stirs but quickly settles again - a light snore rattling in his nose. Thor slips out of bed and tugs his jeans back on. The t-shirt he'd worn earlier lies in a heap of laundry, spattered with blood. He opts for another shirt in the pile and pulls it on before heading downstairs, the wood dusty against his bare feet.

Volstagg is the first one to notice him. “Job's done,” he confirms before throwing back a shot of something amber-colored in a highball glass.

Thor rakes his hand through his sweaty tangles of hair; his mind searches for something to say, but nothing comes.

Thankfully, Heimdall rescues him. “Jakey was a piece of shit, man. This was gonna happen sooner or later.”

Thor nods. “I, uh...yeah. Did he have…anybody?”

Fandral shakes his head. “Nobody that would give a shit. Nobody’s gonna come looking.”

It's a cold comfort, but Thor will take it. “Listen, you guys go home. Get some sleep, alright?”

“Right, boss.”

Volstagg and Heimdall both nod, each offering a clap to Thor's shoulder as they file out. Fandral stays behind.

Once the others leave, he asks, “How's Loki?”

“He's upstairs. Exhausted.”

“Hmm.” Fandral steps closer and looks Thor over. His eyes linger on the junction between Thor's neck and shoulder. “Your, uh… your shirt’s inside out,” he says finally.

Thor remembers the tender spot Loki had sucked into his neck two seconds too late. _Fuck_. “I, uh…”

“Looks like you could do with a drink,” Fandral says, cutting him off. He grabs two more glasses and an open bottle of whiskey from behind the bar. He sloshes alcohol into both glasses and takes one, having a seat on one of the barstools.

“Yeah.” Thor takes the stool beside him. He wraps his dirty hands around the glass in front of him and stares into it. Neither of them says a word; the hum and flicker of the bug zapper near the entrance is the only sound filling the silence.

“Why?” Fandral asks.

Thor doesn't look at his friend. He keeps his eyes down when he takes a hard swallow of his whiskey. “I…” He can't finish the thought. A sob snags in his throat, coming out as a brittle laugh.

What can he possibly say? There's no excuse that will make sense, no plausible lie that he can sell.

“Because he's mine,” Thor finally says, quietly. “And I'm his.”

It's the truth.

It's the only truth Thor knows.

**Author's Note:**

> hi cool kids! we're also on the tumblr:
> 
> [curds_and_wheyface](http://curds-writes.tumblr.com) // [thoresque](http://thoresque.tumblr.com)


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